Sarah Svetlana is a Los Angeles based artist who, as a painter, explores the fragmentation of the subject in an ongoing search for home. An agency model, turned art model, Sarah Svetlana used her body as the first medium in her initial search for identity and self-expression—her upbringing in the irreconcilable cultures of Soviet Belarus and Immigrant America, has drawn and painted roadmaps between two worlds.

Her paintings do not only suggest hectic movement, but the stillness locked in each gesture of that movement. Her work is “rooted somewhere between the insanity of Kandinsky and the line-certainty of the early 20th century Futurists.” Each painting is a piece to the complex topography that defines both her identity and her work. Through the narratives created by a methodical application of color, she delivers an invocation of home— spectral and surreal, but familiar too. 

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Spontaneous Human: Combustion

March 24, 2018

Why do we self destruct? 


I'm not sure who reads this. If anybody. It's interesting to see the different types of folks that "follow me". Those who likes only photos of me. The ones who only like my art and then there a few, equally fucked souls that are able to connect with the whole and will take the time to read the thoughts that run through my slightly neurodiverse mind. 


Thanks for connecting. It's beautiful 


I write so I can keep a journal of where I was in my mind while I was creating visual pieces. Nothing is in a bubble; every part of your life effects the other. The trickle. Just as much as I'm baring my soul with my paintings and photography I want to do the same with my thoughts.


I use to delete everything I'd write, scrutinizing every word, every thought. That stupid voice. Self doubt, sabatoge.


So, why do we self destruct? I think I figured it out tonight. When we have nothing to lose, it's a lot easier not to give a fuck. 


Everytime I'm happy I have anxiety that the other shoe will eventually drop and something terrible will happen. Why? Because it usually has. The last decade sucked but it's been great the last few years, spiritually and for my personal evolvement. I can feel myself growing and becoming my truth but even now that little voice will try to fuck shit up. Well not today! (I mean, maybe tomorrow but I can only focus on now.) Fuck depression, fuck anxiety. Don't let some chemical imbalance define you. Honestly I hate talking about this. I never bring it up to friends because nobody wants to be around the depressed/super anxious chick. So you learn to cope for a few hours, and defuse the situation with self deprecating humor. And that's great, learning to laugh at yourself is the best way to cope with any dark, heavy life shit. It's ok to laugh at horrible things because it makes us human, it connects us. We all can relate.


But I suppose the thing that has saved me is promising myself to always follow my intuition. Even if it's the harder road. Because I know I'm on my own journey, man. 


I began creating to connect. To others, to the universe, to my spirit. That's what saves me. Loving and trusting even when you've been hurt. Otherwise, there is no point. 


I don't have a moral to this story. This is is purely my thoughts, spewed across my page. I pray this makes sense to at least one person.


I'm tired, I think I should sleep. 


Goodbye for now. 



March 2018: 


3x3' acrylic on stretched canvas 


28x28" acrylic on stretched canvas 


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February 23, 2018

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